Never Let Me Go
by Creamy Coffee
Summary: "I don't deserve Peeta's love. After all that I've done to him, how can he still love me? I want to push him away, but I can't... I already love him too much." Post-Mockingjay, pre-epilogue. CHAPTER 4 is FINALLY UP!
1. The End of the Beginning

_Author's Note:_

_Hello everybody. This is my second fanfic and my first for the Hunger Games. I'm not the best writer, so I need a lot of help and feedback! I hope nobody is too OOC... Anyway, the story begins the night of Peeta's return at the end of Mockingjay. I'm not sure where I'm going to take this story. For now, I'm just enjoying the writing process. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to include them in your reviews or you could always send me a PM. As I said before, I'm going to need a lot of help! Thank you so much for reading. Please don't forget to review!_

**Never Let Me Go**

_I. The Beginning of the End_

_"Katniss!"_

_ Prim's screams fill the air as the bombs drop and engulf her in flames that dance brightly around her. Her face contorts into an expression of complete and utter pain as the flames continue to revolve around her faster and faster – reminding me of the dress that Cinna had made for me before the Hunger Games. Everything slowly becomes black except for Prim who is burning in front of my very eyes. She begins to melt, her tears mixing with her pink flesh... I cry "PRIM!" over and over to no avail. I cannot prevent her death. I am useless. All I can do is watch as everyone around me dies._

_ "You promised to protect me," whispers Prim, "You promised…"_

_ "I tried."_

_ "You didn't try hard enough."_

I wake up to find myself alone in my bed once more, sweat pouring like rain across my face. Buttercup's yellow eyes watch me curiously as I take in my surroundings and accept that it was nothing but a dream. I try not to think about the dream, but Prim's pained face appears before my eyes to remind me of the horrible truth that I have to face every day. The truth that I am the one responsible for Prim's death. The truth that everyone I loved would not have died if it weren't for me. Everything is my fault.

_"You didn't try hard enough."_

I know that Prim would never say such a thing, but she would be right. When I was in District 13, what did I ever do to protect Prim? I had almost forgotten about her, because I was too focused on my stupid problems. She was the one who had to comfort me when Peeta was in the Capitol's hands and I couldn't do anything about it. In fact, it was Gale who had paid more attention to Prim when we had lived underground in District 13. _Gale_. The same Gale who did not say so much as a goodbye before he left for a fancy job in District 2 where there are plenty of girls to occupy his attention. And last but not least, Peeta. As Haymitch pointed out, I didn't try as hard as I should have to help him recover from his hijacking. I was a coward, and I still am.

I sigh, scared by the knowledge that nothing I do is ever right. Outside my window, rain is falling down in buckets and the sound of thunder can be heard in the distance. I can't help but wonder if I will die alone like this. Nobody wants me anymore. Not even my own mother cares for me. I can't say I'm surprised though. Prim had always been her favorite.

I find myself thinking about Peeta's return just a few hours ago and the primroses he had planted under the windows. He had been kind enough, but he didn't seem like the Peeta I used to know. I never expected him to be, but it made me feel so _empty _knowing that he would never truly love me again. What does it even matter? If he finally understands how selfish and disgusting I am, it would be for the best. I don't deserve Peeta, not even if I lived a thousand lifetimes.

Buttercup meows at me, startling me out of my reverie. I stare at him, only to receive a cold glare in return. If only morning could arrive sooner. It makes me miserable staying here in bed for hours at a time, knowing full well that the nightmares will come sooner or later. Sometimes, I find it hard to sleep at all. Nevertheless, I close my eyes and force myself to forget.

...

After cleaning up Buttercup in the morning, I walk down to the living room to face what I have been avoiding for so long. On top of the television set lies the letter from my mother that Haymitch gave me a few days after our arrival at District 12. As much as I hate my mother for abandoning me when I needed her most, I tell myself that I need to move on with my life for everyone who had given their lives up for me. The least I could do for them was read a months-old letter from my only family.

I gingerly open the envelope and take out a plain white piece of paper that is filled with my mother's neat handwriting. I take a deep breath before reading:

_Dear Katniss,_

_ I hope that all's well in District 12. I'm sorry I can't be there for you, but I couldn't bear to return. You might feel betrayed by me again, and I can't blame you if you do. I have not been the mother that I should have been for all those years. Not everyone is as strong as you, Katniss. I am not proud of those days, and I want to start over with you. You don't have to forgive me, but I just want you to know that I really do love you._

_As Haymitch may have told you, I've recently begun working on creating a hospital for the people here in District 4. All the plans have been made, and construction is set to start in less than a week! Annie comes to visit often. I'm not sure why she does, but she's been looking brighter ever since. Her little boy is growing up so well. It's a shame that he'll never be able to meet his father. You should come along to District 4 if you ever get the chance. I'll be waiting here if you need me… and Annie would be happy to see you. She talks about you a lot._

_I have to go now. I have another meeting to attend regarding the construction of the hospital. Remember Katniss. Don't lose your purpose like I did. Life goes on, and you'll find that it might not be so bad. Sure, there are days that you want to hide from the rest of the world. However, I promise you that it does get better. I never followed this advice, but I sincerely hope that you will. I only wish I had known earlier. I love you. Keep in touch._

_Sincerely,_

_Mom_

I don't know how I should feel. On one hand, I feel angry that she has the nerve to excuse her actions and tell me how to live my life. On the other hand, I know that she must be hurting and that she wants to talk to me. We may not have been very close, but I suppose it's never too late to give our relationship another try. After all, what have I been doing here in District 12? I have been acting just like my mother when my father was killed. _Lifeless_. A perfect adjective to describe my life between my arrival at District 12 and the present.

Hesitantly, I call the number written on the bottom of my mother's letter. I am tempted to hang up after the first few rings, but my mother promptly picks up and says, "Hello?"

"Hi."

"Katniss?" she asks, surprised, "Is everything alright?"

"I… I read the letter that you sent me."

"Oh, are you mad?"

"Mad?"

"Well, yes," she replies nervously, "I haven't been fair to you. I should have accompanied you to District 12. I was a coward."

"No, it's fine," I say, "It's… understandable."

"I've been so selfish," she sighs, "I've made up excuses for myself when I know that this is as hard for you as it is for me. You always loved Prim so much."

_Prim_. As soon as I hear her name, I hiccup in shock and find that my eyes are already welling with tears. After the dream I had last night, I can't gather the strength to stop myself from letting my tears spill over. My mother continues to speak, and I can tell from her voice that she is crying too.

"It should have been me," she whispers, "If only they had killed me instead."

"Don't say that!" I reply, horrified, "It's not your fault that they killed Prim."

"It's not your fault either then," she says loudly, "I know that you blame yourself for Prim's death, but there was nothing you could do. Besides, you saved her several times in the past by taking over for me when I wasn't there. None of us would have made it if it weren't for you."

"No, it is my fault," I say angrily, "If I had just died in the Hunger Games, none of this would have happened."

"But if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have been alive by the time the Hunger Games came around," she argues, "You fed me and Prim every day even though I did nothing to deserve it."

I want to say that it is my entire fault and that nothing can convince me otherwise. I want to scream at her and threaten to never call again. I want to say that none of us would have made it if it weren't for the boy with the bread who had given me a small glimmer of hope and who was now gone forever. But I don't say any of that.

"Does it matter?" I ask quietly, "Prim's never coming back."

"It does matter, Katniss," she says softly, "She would never have blamed you for her death. In fact, she would have wanted you to move on with your life and be happy. Don't you want to do that for _her_?"

I burst into tears again. I do want to move on and forget, but how can I? Every night, short scenes flicker before my eyes as if to remind me of the evils I had caused. I can see Rue being shot by Marvel, Finnick being bitten to death by mutts, and Peeta being tortured at the Capitol every time I get into bed. It's hard not to blame yourself for a crime when the evidence is right in front of you.

"Never mind. Just promise me that you'll visit soon, Katniss," begs my mother.

"I'll see if I can make arrangements," I sigh, "I probably won't be going anytime soon though. It's hard enough for me to readjust to life here."

"At least, keep in touch," she says, "I don't want to lose you."

"You too."

I hang up, feeling drained by the short exchange. I cannot forgive my mother just yet, but I think I might be able to understand her and that is enough for now. I am about to return to my seat on the couch when there is a knock on my door. I check the time and realize that it's probably just Greasy Sae coming to check on me and serve me breakfast. When I unlock and open the door, I am astonished to see that Peeta is standing next to Greasy Sae with a warm loaf of bread in his hands.

"Hey," says Peeta shyly.

"Hey. Um… come on in."

Greasy Sae hurries off to the kitchen to begin making breakfast while Peeta follows me to the living room. He sets the loaf of bread on a nearby table and sits next to me on the couch. We sit there in silence for a minute or two, neither of us quite knowing what to say. I am still unsure about this new Peeta and how he will react to my words. I remember Peeta's actions during our journey to the Capitol, and I cannot help but be afraid.

"I brought you some bread," says Peeta slowly, "I baked it myself an hour ago."

"Thank you," I reply politely.

An uncomfortable silence takes over our nonexistent conversation, and I muse over how strange the situation is. I am sitting next to the boy who risked his life for me time and time again, yet I cannot find the courage to start up a proper conversation. Who have I become?

"I'm sorry I didn't contact you," says Peeta, frowning, "Dr. Aurelius didn't want me writing to you. He thought it might interfere with the treatment."

"That's alright," I say, attempting a smile. The smile actually comes out more like a grimace, but I continue. "I've been doing fine here by myself."

Peeta looks at me closely as I reply, his electric blue eyes as magnificent as ever. I stare back at him, realizing that he knows that I am lying. I have not been doing fine. The dark bags under my eyes, the poor state of my hair, and overall griminess easily give me away. I'm not the one who's had to recover from Capitol hijacking for several months, but it's obvious that I look much worse for the wear.

"I've missed you."

His words come out of the blue, making me jump in surprise. Could it be possible that Peeta still cared for me? I had given up on Peeta a long time ago, convincing myself that he would never be the boy with the bread again. Yet here he was… baking bread again and telling me that he missed me. For a moment, I am filled with hope that he might love me. I quickly berate myself for doing so, because I am being selfish _again_. Peeta deserves someone better, and it'll only be worse if he does truly love me.

"Why?" I manage to spit out after a complete minute of silence.

Peeta looks surprised.

"For the past couple of months, Dr. Aurelius has been helping me bring back all my real memories," explains Peeta carefully, "As we were working together, I began to remember you and who you really were. My feelings for you. They all came back so strong."

"Peeta," I say in alarm, "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm not sure," he admits, "I've thought about it for a while, but I think that I may still love you."

I feel my heart leap in joy, but I can't do this to Peeta. I would only be a burden to him. I have to let him go.

"I'm sorry, Peeta," I say, getting up, "I can't return your feelings. Don't you remember? I'm the one who made you like this. I'm the reason you've been suffering for these past few months."

I'm about to leave when Peeta grabs my hand and he looks right into my eyes.

"No, you're not."

"I am."

"Look, Katniss," he says determinedly, "I don't blame you and neither should you. And I know that you can't return my feelings _yet_. This is probably confusing for both of us. I just want to start by being friends again."

"Friends?" I pause, thinking to myself.

"Yes."

"I'd like that."

I hate myself for giving him hope. But what else can I do? I want the boy with the bread back in my life.


	2. Awkward Morning Conversations

_Author's Note:_

_Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I was glad to see that you liked it and that I was able to capture the Katniss from the books. I also want to thank everyone else who simply read the first chapter and liked it or even added it to their favorites list. I would love to hear what you have to say about the story but it has made me so happy that you simply read what I wrote. I'm probably rambling on too long, but I just want to show how much I appreciate the support :)_

_I'm sorry I wasn't able to write too much, but I've been swamped with work! Hopefully, the next chapter will be longer and updated faster!_

* * *

**Never Let Me Go**

_II. Awkward Morning Conversations_

"Breakfast is served!"

I sit opposite Peeta at the small dining table as Greasy Sae hands each of us a plate of bacon and eggs, which she claims were brought in only a few days ago from District 11. Peeta's loaf of bread has already been cleanly sliced and placed on a dish in front of us along with a jar of strawberry jam. Normally I would complain to Greasy Sae about eating such a rich meal, but I decide to shut my mouth this once for Peeta. I doubt he would want to see me – _The Girl on Fire _– arguing over something as unimportant as breakfast.

"Thank you, Sae," smiles Peeta warmly, "It looks wonderful."

"Years of experience help," she laughs, giving him a small wink.

Peeta hasn't seen Greasy Sae in months, yet here he is acting like they're the best of friends. I am reminded of the first time Sae came up to check on me. I had been lying down on the floor for lord knows how long until she barged into my house as if she owned the place. She gruffly told me to get up from my spot before she forced me to. Although I had hardly cared about what happened to me at that point, the thought of Greasy Sae beating me up wasn't exactly a pleasant one. After I had gotten up, she had practically shoved soup down my throat to keep me alive. If it hadn't been for Sae, I don't know how I would've survived.

"Do you have any plans for today?" asks Peeta, biting hungrily on a piece of bread, "You could come over to my house and help me bake. You might not be that bad at it."

"You want me to bake?" I frown as I nibble on a strip of bacon. "I don't have anything planned for today, but I'd prefer to avoid that particular catastrophe."

"Come on, Katniss," he grins, "Surely you'd rather help me make some cookies than spend the rest of the day stuck here."

"No thanks."

Peeta looks hurt by words, and I have to mentally rebuke myself for being so frank. He has enough troubles of his own without having to think about my self-wrought isolation. Despite my best efforts, I become annoyed at Peeta for being so _nice_ even after all that he has been through. I know it sounds stupid, but his kindness is too strange and unsettling after having spent months alone with no one but Haymitch for occasional company. It's dangerous, and it only makes it harder for me to convince myself to let him go.

"Well, I heard the weather's been improving," says Peeta lightly, "Isn't that right, Sae?"

"Mmhmm, that's what everyone's been talking about," replies Greasy Sae from her place at the kitchen sink, "Everything's in bloom lately. In fact, that's how I managed to get that jar of strawberry jam for you two."

"If that's the case," says Peeta, "Maybe you should try visiting the woods again, Katniss. It's been a while since you've hunted, hasn't it? Some fresh air could do you some good."

_Nothing will do me any good._

"Actually, I went yesterday," I say, "But you're right. I haven't been going hunting very much since I arrived."

"You should go right away," suggests Greasy Sae as she sits down next to Peeta, "Fresh meat always tastes so much better. The people around here would love to taste some of that game you hunt down."

I can't think of any reason to refuse, so I simply say "Fine."

"Do you mind if I join you?"

I turn towards Peeta whose eyes are shining with curiosity. I can't imagine what would be so interesting about hunting though. He had never shown any interest in it before he was taken by the Capitol, so there was no logical reason for him to be acting in this way. Unless… he just wanted to spend some time with me.

"I suppose that would be alright," I say tentatively, already regretting my words, "I won't make very good company though."

"I don't mind."

_When have you ever minded? _I feel ashamed.

We finish the rest of our breakfast in relative silence. As I'm finishing off the crumbs of a slice of bread, I notice Peeta's eyes concentrating on me. However, he focuses his eyes somewhere else as soon as I look up. I know I shouldn't be encouraging this type of behavior. Nothing will come from it. It's bad enough that I promised to be his friend after he confessed that he might still love me… how in the world will I make Peeta see that there is so much out there in the world apart from me? Of all the places he could have gone, District 12 is probably the worst.

"Thanks again for breakfast, Sae," says Peeta.

"Thank you, Sae," I agree half-heartedly.

"Always a pleasure," says Greasy Sae, her hands already preoccupied with cleaning the dishes

"Hey, Katniss," says Peeta, placing a hand on my shoulder, "I'll run back to my house to get my stuff. Don't leave for the woods without me."

"Oh, right."

He tentatively gives me a small pat on the back before he leaves through the front door. The action is friendly but too distant and cold. I think yearningly of the days when Peeta would hug me tightly as I fell asleep, his warm arms often keeping the nightmares at bay or at least making them tolerable. Oh, damn it. I'm doing it again. _Hoping_. Hoping that the old Peeta will return to me instead of taking care of the boy – no, _man_ – he is now. I never cease to astound myself with my selfishness.

I walk upstairs to my room and find my father's hunting jacket inside my closet. This probably sounds stupid, but I hold the jacket tight in my arms and breathe it in before putting it on. The smell of my father that still lingers on the jacket comforts me greatly, more than anything else in this world. I am thinking about this statement when I remember Peeta's warm arms around me –

Well, I suppose it is more comforting than anything else that I _have _right now in this world.

By the time I walk downstairs after picking a slender bow and a sheath of arrows, Peeta is waiting for me with a large basket in one hand. Peeta simply smiles up at me as if I have done something wonderful, which I haven't.

"What's the basket for?" I ask curiously.

"Oh, I thought we could have a picnic," he replies, allowing me a small peek inside the basket.

Sandwiches, donuts, meringues, cakes, you name it – they're all in there.

"Wow, that's a lot of food," I say rather lamely.

Peeta laughs, "I didn't know what else to bring. Besides, it's a great day to just eat and relax outside. I hope you don't mind."

"No, that's a great idea," I say, giving him a small smile, "It's just a bit strange."

"What is?" asks Peeta, confused.

"Well, we were meant to go _hunting_. Now, it feels like we're going to some tea party." "Tea party?" snickers Peeta, shaking his head, "We are going to hunt, Katniss. At least, you are. I know I'll be useless, so I thought that I may as well bring some goods from the bakery so that we have something to eat. Other than what you kill, of course."

"I could always teach you how to hunt."

Wait. Did I just say that?

"And I could always teach you how to bake."

"Never mind."

"Thought so."

I'm surprised by how playful our conversation is. For the first time in months, I find myself at ease. When I'm with Peeta, I feel like I can be myself without worrying about the consequences. It would be easy for me to open up and confess all that I've been going through, but I hold myself back. My goal is to persuade Peeta to leave District 12 or do whatever he needs to do to get his life back on track and forget me. Getting any closer to Peeta will ruin my goal, but my heart keeps betraying my mind. I'm at a loss of what to do.

"Let's get going, then," says Peeta, opening the door for me.

I walk outside as the fresh breeze carries with it the sweet scents of the blossoming flowers of District 12. I glance briefly at the primroses under the window to find that they are bright and full of life. As we move away from the Victor's Village and past the houses of the residents of District 12, I notice Thom with his wheelbarrow. I wave at him casually when he looks up. He smiles and waves back in return.

"Who's that?" asks Peeta, his mouth set in a hard line.

"That's Thom," I say, "He used to work with um… Gale."

"Do you know him well?"

"No, not really," I yawn, already tired, "I saw him yesterday when he was gathering remains from the mayor's house."

"Madge?" he asks questioningly.

"No, she didn't make it."

Peeta sighs and his face becomes downcast. I feel a strong need to comfort him and tell him that everything will be fine, but I can't force myself to lie. Instead, I avert my eyes and pretend to focus on something else to give him some time to recuperate. I am counting silently in my head as I wait when Peeta suddenly grabs my hand. I try to untangle my hand from his, but he just grips it tighter.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, "I can't help myself."

I don't know how to respond.

"It's easier being myself when I'm around you, you know?"

_I feel exactly the same way_. But I don't say anything. As we continue walking, I can't help but notice how warm his hand is in my cold one. It once again reminds me of the days we had spent in each other's company. I silently will myself to think about something else.

"Would it be alright if I asked you some questions?" asks Peeta shyly.

"What kinds of questions?" I ask cautiously.

"Dr. Aurelius and I couldn't fill all the blanks in my memory," he says regretfully, "There are some things that I'm still not sure of, and you knew me best so…"

I'm afraid of the questions he'll ask me. What if he asks me if I'm responsible for his family's death? Would I have to say that it was the Capitol's fault or would I have to say that none of this would have happened if I weren't so stupid? Real or not real? Both? But I have to be brave for Peeta. It may be several months too late, but I still have to help him in any way I can.

"Fire ahead," I say.

"I used to hold you when you were asleep. Real or not real?"

"Real," I whisper, "We were comforting each other to keep the nightmares at bay."

"Did it work?" he asks, looking at me wistfully.

"It helped, but the nightmares never stopped."

Peeta nods, deep in thought, as we reach the fence that separates District 12 from the forest beyond. We slide under the fence with ease, but the basket refuses to budge. Peeta eventually throws the basket over the fence as softly as he can. It is not long before we make our way into the forest and allow the trees to cover our backs.

"Did you love Gale?" he asks suddenly.

"What?" I sputter, horrified, "I don't understand how that knowledge will help you recover your memory."

"I was just curious," he says. He chuckles a bit as if he were joking, but I know that his question was serious.

"It's complicated," I admit, focusing my eyes on the ground beneath me.

"There are only two different answers," he teases, "Yes or no."

"I loved Gale like a brother," I confess, staring resolutely at my feet, "I didn't realize that back then, because I was too confused about everything… the Games… Snow… you…"

"You were confused about me?"

"I was never very clever," I say, giving him a weak smile.

"How about now?"

His eyes are once again filled with that hope I had seen before. I stand there silent for a few seconds as he watches me carefully. I can feel my heart beating furiously in my chest, and I ache to reach out to him. However, I keep calm and ignore him. Before I can walk away, he grabs my arm and pulls me close to him. He repeats the question and forces me to answer.

"Are you confused now?" he asks, his eyes burning with that foolish hope.

I lick my dry lips before croaking, "I'm… not sure."

Peeta simply sighs and lets me go. My mouth desperately wants to reveal the truth and relieve him of his pain, but I move on as if nothing has happened.

_I'm sorry that I never helped you, Peeta. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I let your family die. Most of all, I'm sorry that… I love you, especially now._


	3. I Can't

_Author's Note:_

_I am so sorry for not updating sooner! I know it has been ages… I've been studying for my AP exams, which have been killing me. I promise that I'll update every week from now on. I've really missed writing for you guys, and I hope you'll like this new chapter. Don't be afraid to critique me or make any comments. This chapter was the hardest one to write so far, and I'm not sure if I've pulled it off the way I wanted to. Thank you for staying with me. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Never Let Me Go**

_III. I Can't_

Peeta and I relax on the blanket we have laid out on the wet grass, busily preparing our picnic. I have already skinned and cut up the few squirrels that I have caught from hunting with my bow. They are now boiling in a metal pot hanging over a fire that Peeta helped me start. I smile as I remember his amazement at the simple process. His eyes had never grown as large as when he had seen how rubbing two sticks could light a fire. I casually look over my shoulder to see that Peeta is humming a familiar tune as he neatly slices a piece of bread.

It seems almost too good to be true, as if we had returned to the old days. A war has come and gone, but at this moment everything is so _pleasant_. I can see the remnants of the old Peeta whom I had believed had gone forever. Peeta would never be the same, but in a way he would always be the boy with the bread who looked out for me. There were aspects of his personality that the Capitol could never change, and I was glad. I was glad, because it meant that I hadn't completely ruined his life. There was a part of him that my stupidity and selfishness could not destroy.

"Katniss," said Peeta gently, "I think you've boiled those squirrels for long enough. Why don't you go over and check to see if the stew's done?"

I slip out of my reverie and walk towards the metal pot. I open the lid and take in the delicious scents wafting from the stew. Cautiously, I extinguish the fire with my boot before taking the pot over to our picnic blanket. When I return, I find that Peeta has already prepared several plates filled with all the different baked goods he has brought. I give him a warm smile to show him my gratefulness and hurry to distribute the squirrel stew into two bowls. In a matter of a few minutes, we are digging in hungrily into our rich meals without the slightest hesitation.

"Mmm… this tastes so good," I sigh, biting into a cheese bun. "It's been a while since I've been able to indulge myself like this."

Peeta laughs lightly. "Well, cheese buns have always been your favorite. I'm not surprised that you're enjoying yourself so much."

"You remember that?" I ask, surprised that he could remember such a trivial detail. It had been so long since I had eaten a cheese bun that I had almost forgotten myself that it was my favorite type of bread. I look at the cheese bun in my hand, and I have to force myself not to dredge up more memories. I'm scared that I will do something drastic in front of Peeta if I let myself fall prey to my memories.

"Of course I do," said Peeta seriously, his eyes meeting mine, "You could never keep your hands off them, could you? I don't know why you're so surprised about that. I mean, you never forgot my little habits…"

_"You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces."_ My words come back to haunt me.

"I wasn't the one who was hijacked," I whisper, hanging my head. I stare at my grimy hands as I wait for Peeta's response. Instead of the words I expect to hear, Peeta simply grabs my head and turns it towards him firmly but softly. His eyes are warm but full of worry. I desperately want to turn away and hide my feelings, but I find myself unable to escape from his gaze.

"Why do you keep blaming yourself for what the Capitol did to me?" asked Peeta, his hand caressing my cheek, "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing that you could've done to save me. I know you feel like you're responsible, but nothing could be further from the truth."

"No," I shake my head vigorously in disagreement, "If I hadn't been so stupid… if I had just eaten those berries alone, none of this would have happened. There would never have been a war. Prim would still be alive. Finnick and Annie would be together. You would have been happy."

"You think that I would be happy?" asks Peeta quietly. He looks almost angry as if I have said something offensive. "Katniss, how can you think that I could live with myself if you died for me?"

"You would have moved on eventually," I say, struggling to hold back my tears, "There are other girls who are prettier than I am… who could offer you more…"

"Why can't you understand?" said Peeta, frustrated, "Do you think that I'm that shallow? That I only like girls who are pretty?"

"No, that's not what I meant…"

"Then, tell me!"

Peeta suddenly stands up and grabs onto a nearby tree. He closes his eyes and begins to breathe heavily. His face contorts into an expression of great pain, and I slowly realize that he is having one of his relapses. Before I can decide what to do, Peeta opens his eyes and yells at me in a tone of deep hatred.

"You disgusting mutt! Are you trying to kill me… just like the rest of my family?"

"No, no, Peeta," I mumble hurriedly, "I would never do that."

"Lies," he hissed, spitting on me, "I'll make you pay for what you did."

"Peeta, please," I beg, "Please come back. You're having another flashback."

"SHUT UP! I've had enough of your lies!" he screams.

I try to run away as fast I can, but Peeta grabs my hair from behind and throws me down onto the ground. I gasp from the shock of the impact as Peeta gives me a cold smirk. Rendered useless on the wet grass, I watch as Peeta approaches me with a cruel glint in his eye that reflects the only thought in his mind: _kill Katniss._

"Peeta… please…"

"I said SHUT UP!"

My vision blurs as he kicks me in the side with all his strength. His mocking laughter fills my ears, and I don't know what to do. I'm too scared to do anything but remain on the ground and let him have his way with me. I can only pray that the flashback will end soon. Pain courses throughout my body as Peeta kicks me again in the side. He crouches down and asks me in a voice that makes me shiver, "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

I don't answer his question. Instead, I close my eyes and wait for the darkness to take me.

But it doesn't.

When I open my eyes, I find myself looking into Peeta's tortured eyes. He looks horrified by my sight, and he slowly begins to back away. I can see the guilt in his eyes, and I want to tell him that it's okay. Unfortunately, my throat does not seem to work and all that comes out is a hoarse croak that only frightens Peeta further. I push myself up from the ground using my elbows and knees, trying to approach him.

"I'll get help," says Peeta hesitantly, his hands shaking vigorously.

"No, it's fine," I manage to cough out, "I'll be alright. Let's just continue eating."

"Katniss, I… can't. I can't do this. I thought I could control myself, but I was wrong." Tears begin to roll down Peeta's eyes. "I don't think I should see you anymore. I'll leave now."

"Wait, Peeta!"

I call his name repeatedly, but Peeta walks away from me at an inhumanely fast pace. I do my best to chase him, but my injuries slow me down and Peeta eventually disappears from my sight. Exhaustion from the day's events overcomes me, and I collapse to the ground. Alone in the woods, I allow the tears that I have held to flow freely. I should have known that it was too good to last. If I had just kept my distance as I had told myself to do, Peeta wouldn't have to torture himself over another flashback that I had triggered. Why was I so selfish? Why was everything so damn unfair?

_Why? Why? Why…?_

_Peeta and I are walking in the forest again. We are laughing happily together as the birds in the trees chirp in unison. I turn to look at his face, which is beaming brightly. His lips are curved in a big smile, and my heart fills with joy. Without thinking, I reach out and touch his face with my hands. Suddenly, his expression changes. His smile curves downward and his eyes turn a dull black that pierces me with fear._

_"Do you think that I ever loved you?" he asks coldly, his face reflecting the contempt he feels for me._

_"P… Peeta, what are you talking about?" I ask, my voice shaking from the fear that consumes me. "Are you having another flashback? Please, tell me."_

_Peeta laughs a cruel laugh that fills the entire forest. It continues to echo all around me, and the chirping of the birds soon changes into a malicious cackling that grows louder and louder. The lush green trees around me begin to fade away, and I am left in a world of darkness. Peeta stands a few feet away from me, his lips curved in a derisive smirk._

_"No, it's just me," he says, "I'm not having a flashback. Can't you see? I never loved you, Katniss. How can you think that I could ever love someone as disgusting and selfish as you? It never made any sense, did it?"_

_"No, it didn't," I murmur._

_"Well, I think it's time we said good-bye."_

_"No, wait… Peeta…"_

_I frantically run towards him, but he has already gone into the darkness. The echoes of his mocking laughter accompany as me as I continue to run, but there is nowhere to run. Everything has disappeared, and I am left alone inside this black nothingness. I fall onto the ground and yell his name repeatedly, but he doesn't return._

"PEETA!"

I wake up in a pool of sweat as I choke on my own screams. Buttercup watches me almost pitifully as I get up from my bed and walk outside into the hallway. I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen, trying not to think about the nightmare. The darkness of the kitchen eerily reminds me of the black nothingness of my dreams, and it takes all my willpower not to fall apart right there in the kitchen. I quickly pour myself a cup of cold water and swallow it in a single gulp. I stand there for a few seconds, wondering what I should do next.

The clock in the kitchen tells me that it is barely 2 a.m., but I know that going back to sleep is out of the question. I take a look out the window and notice that the lights in Peeta's house are still on. I hope he didn't hear my screams… I don't want him to feel even more responsible for things that are out of his control.

Inevitably, the memory of my nightmare returns despite my best efforts to block it out. Peeta's words repeat themselves in my head like some kind of chant:

"_How can you think that I could ever love someone as disgusting and selfish as you?"_

Isn't that what I had been saying to myself all this time? Didn't I want Peeta to leave me? Isn't that what I wanted?

Then I realize… No, that's not what I wanted. I've never wanted that. I've always been too selfish for that.

Before I can stop myself, I run out the door and towards Peeta's house. Even though it is foolish and idiotic, I pound on his door with all the strength I can muster. Not a single sound can be heard from behind the door, but I know that Peeta can hear me. I don't give up.

"Peeta, open up the door!" I yell, my knuckles slowly becoming numb, "I know you're in there! I know you don't want to see me, but I need to see you right now. Peeta, open the damn door – "

The door opens, and I am face to face with Peeta. He stares at me wearily as I take in his face, which has changed so much since the last few hours when I had seen him. Dark bags hang under his eyes and his eyes are red as if from crying. For a moment, I am speechless.

"I told you Katniss," he whispers, "_I can't_. I can't be with you anymore. It's too dangerous."

"I don't care," I say, "You told me that it wasn't my fault that you were hijacked. Well, it's not your fault either. You shouldn't blame yourself for what the Capitol did to you."

"It's not about whose fault it is." He shakes his head mournfully. "It's not safe for you to be with me."

"Peeta, I've never been safer than with you." I reach out and hold his hand, warm as always. He stares at me in disbelief.

"How can you say that after what I did to you?"

"_You _didn't do that to me."

"It doesn't matter," he says firmly, breaking his hand free from my grip, "You have to go. It's better for me to be alone."

"But Peeta, I…I…" I struggle to say the words.

_Coward._

I can see him turning away from me, getting ready to close the door. I promptly abandon my attempt to tell him how I feel. I've never been good with words, and I never will be. However, I didn't become the Mockingjay because of what I said. It was because of what I did.

My mind warns me that my plan is insane, but I make my way towards Peeta anyway.

It takes me a moment to register that I am kissing Peeta Mellark.


	4. Loved

_Author's Note:_

_I can't believe it's been so long since I last updated. The last time I updated I promised I would update every week, but it's already been a year! I really shouldn't make promises I can't keep… Please accept my sincere apology. Anyway, I hope you guys will enjoy this latest chapter despite how late it is. Thank you, as always, for reading._

**Never Let Me Go**

_IV. Loved_

Our lips part awkwardly but linger close together as we breathe in small gasps of the freezing air. Knowing that what I have done is unforgivable, I find myself staring down at the ground to avoid Peeta's eyes for as long as I can. I don't even remember why I went ahead with the irrational plan my brain had provided me with to stop Peeta from closing the door on me. Surely, there had to have been a better way than this – a way that would have prevented Peeta from being hurt _again_.

"Katniss…" whispers Peeta, his voice thick with emotion, "The minute I tell you to stay away from me, you do the exact opposite. What am I supposed to do with you?"

"You could let me stay with you," I say softly.

Gathering up my courage, I meet his warm blue eyes that comfort me even in this strange moment. I cup his face in my hands, his eyes following my every move in a wary but almost resigned manner. He reaches up with his own hands to put them down, but I hold them firmly in place. A small frown appears on his face as I can't help but think how I can never stop being selfish and thinking about what I want. However, I wasn't going to let Peeta torture himself over something that he had no control over but that I was responsible for.

"It's late, Katniss," says Peeta quietly, "We're going to catch a cold standing out here in this weather. It would be best if we both went back inside."

"Why won't you answer me?" I ask angrily.

"I've already said everything that needs to be said."

"Mistakes happen, Peeta."

"Almost killing you was a _mistake_?" asks Peeta incredulously, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

"If you leave me, then I might as well be dead," I retort in frustration, "What do you think my life was like before you came here? Do you think that I was having the time of my life living by myself with no one to talk to about what I went through? Do you think it was easy for me to watch as my mother ran away to take care of others but not me, her own daughter? DO YOU THINK…?"

Peeta wraps his arms around me tightly as I sob helplessly into his shoulder. Nothing makes sense right now. I should be the one comforting Peeta, not the other way around. He's the one who has suffered more than me. I mean, not just today but for all these years. He was the one who lost his entire family, he was the one who was hijacked by the Capitol, and he was the one who went through all that treatment with Dr. Aurelius. What right did I have to cry about my life when here was someone who had been through much worse and yet could smile as if he hadn't a worry in the world?

"Just give me some time," says Peeta, kissing me gently on the forehead.

"I'm sorry" is all I can say.

Peeta opens his mouth as if he is about to say something before he wipes away my remaining tears and abruptly withdraws into his house, closing the door behind him. Numbly, I walk back to my house as the wind howls deafeningly around my ears. For once, I feel relieved that the loud sound of the wind prevents me from hearing my own thoughts. Although I am successful at not letting myself think about the situation, Peeta's conflicted face keeps appearing before my eyes to haunt me. It feels as if someone is stabbing directly at the wounds of my heart that have been completely reopened, wounds that I had not even realized had begun to heal so quickly.

Exhausted both physically and emotionally, I barely have the strength to open the door to my own house. After the first few steps inside, I almost immediately collapse on the floor. I can hear the loud impact of my fall, but I can hardly feel the pain that should accompany it. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if I just died right now. What use is there for an injured Mockingjay in times of peace? Besides, if I live, I will only drain the life away from the only person I know who seems to give a damn about me.

As these morbid thoughts swim inside of my head, the darkness gradually closes in on me. If only the darkness could be death that has come to take me… if only it could take me back in time when Prim was alive… if only… _if only_…

When I wake up from my uncomfortable spot on the ground, I am greeted by the pungent smell of alcohol and decay. I confirm my suspicions by turning my eyes to the sofa where Haymitch has predictably taken up residence with a bottle of whiskey gripped loosely in his right hand. Haymitch looks even worse than he did when I last saw him, his hair falling down his shoulders in stringy lumps and his teeth a dark shade of yellow. He had promised to clean up his act a little when we first arrived at District 12, but such a task was obviously easier said than done. I couldn't blame him either. We had both been through enough trouble for a lifetime.

"Well, our princess is finally awake!" declares Haymitch with a mocking smile.

"I haven't seen you in a while, Haymitch," I say dryly.

"You could have if you had bothered to pay me a visit," he says, taking another swig from his bottle, "But that's neither here nor there. I didn't come to act chummy with you for old time's sake."

"What did you come here for, then?"

Of course, I already know the answer.

"I wanted to know how the boy's doing," he replies, a little bit too nonchalantly, "I heard he came back two days ago. He didn't bother to show up at my house though, funnily enough."

"Peeta's fine," I shrug in what I hope is a casual manner, "We even went on a picnic yesterday. Of course, it would be better for you to go talk to Peeta himself about it if you're so curious about his well-being."

"Don't take me for a fool," snaps Haymitch irritably, "If things are so chummy between you and Peeta, what was it that I happened to see a few hours ago. Hmm?"

I almost jump in surprise, but I catch myself at the last moment. Surely, he couldn't be talking about what had happened at Peeta's front door. The whole neighborhood had been as silent as a mouse but, then again, maybe that had made it easier for others to eavesdrop on our conversation. In any case, why in the world would Haymitch be awake at 2 a.m.? As far as I knew, he was rarely awake even during the daytime. None of this made any sense.

"What did you see exactly?" I ask hesitantly, stalling for time.

"It seemed like you were having a good smooch with Peeta," snorts Haymitch, "Star-crossed lovers some might say, but I know there's more to it than that."

Crap. I've been caught red-handed, and I don't know how to escape. All I know is that Haymitch _cannot_ be involved in this situation. Everything's complicated enough as it is. Nor do I like the thought of having to explain my feelings to Haymitch of all people. I can only imagine what snide comments Haymitch would make about my relationship with Peeta. Maybe I'm being unfair to Haymitch, but I don't need his advice when it comes to my personal life. Scratch that – _especially_ when it comes to my personal life.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, "You really have to stop drinking, Haymitch. If you're seeing hallucinations now…"

"Cut the crap, Katniss," yells Haymitch angrily, "How dumb do you think I am? I saw Peeta coming from the woods alone after your little picnic. The poor boy looked as if he'd seen a ghost."

I flinch but I reply smoothly, "There was an accident…"

"Oh, I bet there was," he continued, his face growing red, "If Peeta's behavior hadn't been suspicious enough, I see you walking out a few minutes later, limping like a three-legged goat. Now, I find you this morning on the ground like some drunkard – like how you would find _me_ on a Sunday morning! After all that, you still expect me to believe that you and Peeta had a nice little tea party out there in the woods?"

"I..."

"Let's not make this harder than it is, Katniss."

"Fine, you got me," I mutter in defeat, "Why do you even care though?"

"We've been through hell and back together," he sighed, putting down his bottle, "As annoying as you can be, I feel that it's my responsibility to watch out for you. You know, 'Once a mentor, always a mentor,' or whatever those ridiculous Capitol people always used to say on T.V."

I can't help but smile at Haymitch's words despite the uncomfortable situation I'm stuck in. It's strange to think that Haymitch is still watching over me and Peeta even though everything has settled down. Perhaps it was because he understood that it would never truly be over for us. The war would soon be a past memory – a small scar – to most people, but it would rage on inside of us forever. We both needed protection.

"Thanks, Haymitch," I say earnestly, "But I don't see how you can solve things between me and Peeta."

"I never said I could solve them, sweetheart," says Haymitch frankly, "I came because I know you're going to explode if you don't get these things off your chest. It's better for someone to hear what's on your mind before you go insane."

"Are you sure about this?" I ask skeptically.

"I have nothing else to do, do I?" he says, giving me one of his lopsided smiles.

I sigh and begin my story from the very beginning.

...

"You've gotten yourself into quite a situation, sweetheart."

I glare at Haymitch from across the kitchen table as I take a small sip of the mysterious soup that Greasy Sae made for me. Sae had seemed as if she was in a hurry this morning when preparing my breakfast, but I suppose that the stench emanating from Haymitch is enough to chase anyone away. I allow myself to smile briefly at my own joke before drinking some water to wash the taste of the soup out of my mouth. This is probably the first time I disliked Sae's cooking. Once again, I blame Haymitch.

"Do you have a solution?" I ask tiredly.

"I don't think there's anything you can do for now," says Haymitch, scratching his head, "You'll just have to wait until Peeta comes to talk to you. He did ask you to give him some time."

"It makes me restless to just _wait_ for him to make up his mind," I confess, "If only there was something I could do to take my mind off things."

"Why don't you pay your mother a visit?"

The prospect of visiting my mother in District 4 is both daunting and exciting. The awkwardness between me and my mother might be too much for me to handle. On the other hand, I have never been to the other districts except on the dreadful Victory Tour during which I had only seen the boring parts of the districts like the Town Hall. Traveling could certainly keep my mind distracted for a while. It would also be nice to see how Annie and her son are doing up there.

"That might actually be for the best," I murmur.

"It is?" asks Haymitch doubtfully, "I thought that you didn't want to have anything to do with her after she left for District 4."

"She's still my mother," I say firmly, "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I don't have a choice. If this is what's best for Peeta, then I have to go through with it."

"So humble and self-sacrificing," smirks Haymitch, "Well, if you're really going through with this, it won't be too hard for you to catch a train for District 4 in the afternoon."

"Wait, this afternoon? Isn't that a little fast?"

"It's better than delaying the inevitable."

"You're right. I guess I should call my mother."

I stand up and walk to the phone hesitantly, feeling Haymitch's eyes boring into my back. My relationship with my mother had improved considerably after the last time we had spoken, but the thought of talking to her again made me horribly nervous. The whole idea seems ridiculous now. I don't know a single thing about traveling. It's too late to turn back though. I dial the number as slowly as I can, praying that she won't pick up.

Instead, she picks up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Katniss."

"Katniss! Is everything alright?" my mother asks, sounding concerned but happy that I called.

"Everything's fine," I say unconvincingly, "The truth is I wanted to ask if I could make a trip down to District 4 today. I know it's sudden, but…"

"Of course you can come!" she says excitedly, "Don't worry about a thing. Just pack your bags and get on the train and I'll take care of everything else."

"Are you sure?" I ask cautiously, "I don't want to cause any trouble."

"I told you not to worry, Katniss," she laughs, "Construction on the hospital has already started, so all I have to do is wait until it's finished. I'm all yours for the time being."

"I'll see you soon then, okay?"

"I'm so glad you're coming. I love you, Katniss."

"I… love you too, Mom."

...

I watch as the train rapidly approaches the station, its bright lights temporarily blinding my vision. Contrary to my expectations, the station is strangely crowded and full of people who I've never seen before. I can feel them watching me, but they don't say anything out of respect or fear _or both_. Haymitch is standing next to me, his hands free of alcohol for once. I'm thankful that he's here for whatever reason, because it makes me feel as if somebody will miss me after I leave.

"This is it," I say calmly, "I'll arrive at District 4 by 8 p.m. if all goes well. Take care of Peeta for me while I'm gone."

"Just have a good time, kid," he says, clapping me on the shoulder, "There's no use worrying about Peeta while you're at your mother's place."

I nod my head, pick up my suitcase, and walk toward the train. Before I hop on the train, I turn around and wave goodbye to Haymitch. He waves back and gives me a smile so genuine that tears begin to form in my eyes. Feeling foolish, I quickly enter the train and find my seat. It is only then that I realize that I feel happy. I hadn't gotten any closer to fixing the problems that Peeta and I had, but it was enough for now that I still had people who loved me or at least cared for me.

When I come back, I will make sure Peeta feels the same way. I will prove to him that I love him and that I will be there for him like he was there for me all the time. I will tell him what is really in my heart. I will promise to never let him go.


End file.
